To be Blind
by CharmingFool
Summary: I suppose... Even when I had sight... I was painfully blind. -Hetaoni-


**_A/N: Ah my first Fanfic. I suppose I can come back and edit it someday... When I'm like, ya know, awesome? Ha, sorry if it doesn't make much sense in some areas... Like I said in the beginning... This is my first! Cut me some slack. I promise they'll get better though. So yeah... Enjoy. _**

To be Blind

It's dark. Very dark. But that can't be helped. My sight left me long ago. It was my own foolishness, my own recklessness… that had left me blind. I rolled over into a different sleeping position only to feel another warm body against my own. Perhaps if it was a few days before and I was at home in my own bed, I would've panicked. That wasn't the case however. I was in a living nightmare, and I often woke with a fellow friend beside me. Breaths tickled my forehead and calloused fingers stroked my blood stained cheeks. I was too tired to swat at them. Yes, I always woke with someone beside me. However, when it was like this… It was _him_. Him being the stranger that always touched me so… Lovingly. He never spoke, so it was pointless to question him. Still, I played the guessing game.

"…Russia, Prussia?" I questioned groggily as my eyelids rose. It was a force of habit, opening my eyes. I didn't believe I'd actually see anything when I did it. The person beside me shifted a bit. I suppose to get more comfortable… It is a rather small bed. I grimaced then moved a bit to give him more space, which he gladly took without a word."Italy?" I tried again. Why would that pasta eating fool want to sleep with me? No, it wasn't him. He preferred sleeping in between Germany and Japan. "Canada?" I didn't flinch as those rough fingers began running through my hair. I was used to this. It wasn't all that bad, either. I doubt that it's Canada, so shy and reserved. He was attached to the Frog, too.

No matter who I guessed, there was always a reason why they wouldn't do this. "I grow weary of this, you know…" I murmured, a soft yawn following suit. The body against mine was radiating heat. It always was. I wondered sometimes if that was natural or simply a product of running all day, trying to survive that Thing's wrath. Busted dry lips pressed against my chin, as if to apologize. I suppose it's better if I don't know who it is until we escape. Even so, I find it unfair sometimes. At least he knows who I am. "Git." I muttered, closing my eyes. I think I felt his lips draw into a smile on my skin, but it was hard to tell. I haven't gotten used to trying to read people like that.

I hesitantly raised my hand to find where the male's face was. I wish I could say it was delicately smooth, and I could feel out just who it was. I would be lying if I said that though... Wouldn't I? It was riddled with cuts and the skin itself felt swollen beneath my fingertips. Perhaps if I had always been blind I could pinpoint who it was but… This was a recent thing. "You have a new one…" I murmured, pausing at a jagged line going across the bridge of his nose to his cheek. It would be an uneven scar. I was never one to be obsessed with looks, so it wouldn't have bothered me even if I had sight. I've always been rather drab and unattractive (according to the Frog). Still the man beneath my scrutinizing fingers pulled his face away from my touch.

It wasn't long before I felt those bruised lips pressing against my own in a needy fashion. I didn't hesitate to press my body against his. Such things were rare and brief. It was a treat to receive them. Slowly, carefully… A tongue invaded my mouth. The taste of copper and charred scones intermingled as we kissed, and for a moment I forgot about the house of horrors and being blind. It was nice, having an out. Fingers gripped at my shaggy blonde hair as I clutched at the front of the stranger's shirt. Hips grinded into mine in a yearning manner, and the kiss deepened.

The usual restraint the other had when they go to such a point seemed forgotten. It was going well… So very well. Only for it all to come to a halt as soon I squeaked. Yes, squeaked. It was an embarrassing moment to say in the least. My lower regions were aching and I was desperately trying to get my body under control. Noises like that… Would wake someone. And maybe if I hadn't let go so freely, the other male wouldn't have come to his senses and stopped.

"Don't you dare, you bloody wanker…" I hissed out underneath my breath, already feeling him shift and move away from me. I gritted my teeth as I tried to tighten my grip on his shirt, but he was stronger. That was no big hint on his identity though. Even Italy surpassed my strength at the moment. Just as it had begun, it ended. I sat up, feeling the fabric of his clothing slip through my fingers. "Just who the hell are you anyway?" And then he finally pulled away completely. I could hear his quick yet steady footsteps retreating to another area in the room shared with the other nations. I frowned then drew the blanket over my head and rolled over. I might as well get some sleep.

"Hey! England! Wake up!"

Oh… If that blasted American didn't shut up…

"ARTHUR!"

I sat up immediately, my eyes snapping open to try and figure out what was going on. Force of habit. A hand grabbed at mine, hot and slicked with so much sweat it was hard to hold on to. I stumbled out of bed, my bare feet touching warm liquid splattered all over the floor. I tried not to think about what that liquid was. "W-What the hell is going on?!" America didn't respond. He only guided me as best he could to the bathroom. I heard a door lock. Screams… Oh God, the screams. "A-Alfred?!" Again with no response, he pushed me as if to get me farther way and I fell less than gracefully into the half empty tub. My clothing was drenched immediately with cold bath water. Oh, if we survived this… I would kill him. A curtain closed. Then I felt hands raise me from the below freezing water. I shuddered as I fell into the arms of my little brother. I was sure... That it was him. He'd woken me, hadn't he?

His body is shaking violently again my own. How did that _Thing _find them? This was such a good hiding spot… "Hey… Calm down." I brought my hand up to wipe at the tears that I knew were forming only to draw my hand back, as if it were on fire. His body tensed up. I believe at that moment, both of us were deaf to the screeching sirens of death in the other room.

"You…" I clenched my hand into a fist, my nails digging into the flesh on my palm. Breaking it. I don't care. We're going to die anyway. He didn't speak. He only drew himself away. I wish I could see his expression and read him. I could reach out to him… I could call out to him… But I'm… I'm overcome by… some emotion I can't pinpoint. I think to him I look angry. When in actuality, I don't know what I am. I don't know if I want to kiss him and hold onto him forever, or if I just want to question him. What did the bloody hell did he think he was doing? Why was he so… complicated? Couldn't he have just… couldn't he have…

"Alfr-!"

The door broke down, and the sound that came after that was a few feeble blasts from a pistol. I could only back up against the wall. I was too… disoriented, to cry. A familiar warmth spread between my legs, and I was a sure a very noticeable wet spot had formed. Perhaps if we were at a world meeting, and someone had spooked me horribly well… People would've laughed. However, anyone that would've done so… Was dead. I wanted to yell for him then. More than anything, I wished for the nights in that rickety old bed. I wished for those cracked lips and that disgusting metallic taste I'd grown so accustom too. I wished for… time to go back. My magic was spent though. Italy was… Probably running. It seemed they always screamed at him to run and leave them. Another loop then? Oh… there the tears were.

I couldn't even say I love you as I listened to the pathetic struggle to survive. America is heaving and that Thing is as strong as ever. Pointless… All so pointless. A final bang came from that pistol of his. Then the sound of something being snapped. It was a sickening sound. I fought the bile rising in my throat. I lost. Chunks of it slipped passed my lips as I slumped down the wall. The sound of heavy footsteps approaching me sent a chill up my spine, but I made no attempt to move. A blistering tingle remained on my fingertips from the touch of Alfred's face.

"…It was uneven."

A small sour laugh left my lips as the dark presence of that Thing approached me. I'm dead… I'm…

_"America! What do you think you're doing?!" I narrow my piercing green eyes as I push at his chest, his body radiating heat. Why was he always so hot? I swear it's unnatural. "Ah well… You looked asleep. Figured I'd wake you up dude." He grins and I shove at his chest again, flustered and irritated. Stupid America, always messing with me. "With your bloody lips?!" He laughs obnoxiously at that, and I don't catch the glimmer of disappointment lingering in the vast blue of his eyes. "Don't get your panties in a knot! Sheesh, ya think I'd ever really kiss you?" I purse my lips. Something… Something cold… Gripped at my heart for a moment. Yes. Just a moment. "Ha! Not when I can see you do it apparently." He laughs at that. _Did it seem so unlikely...? _He then claps his hands together, moving on. "Well! Guess what? Italy was telling me about this one house…" _

Even with sight… I…

I…

I…

_…_


End file.
